The Moonless Night
by Kendris
Summary: OneShot. Solaufein longs to tell Phaere his secret...but does he dare?


_Author's Note: I started this as a way to get a better feel for the character of Solaufein in WMTM, based on a comment that he made in chapter 38, but as it began to take on a life of its own, I set it up to be read as a stand alone, so there are a few inconsistencies between it and the original account._

* * *

"Nicely done, male," Phaere said approvingly as they approached the narrow crevasse that led to the surface. "I did not believe you when you said that you had found a way past that cursed dragon, but it seems that you have." 

"And have I ever lied to you, Phaere?" Solaufein inquired with an arch of one pale eyebrow and the faintest of smiles.

"No." The softening in her usually ice-cold crimson eyes was something she permitted only when they were alone. "Which makes you unique. I wonder sometimes whether you are indeed a true drow or some type of changeling."

"I believe that I should have put any question of that to rest in the arena yesterday," he replied calmly. "Not to mention in your chambers last night."

"Aye," she agreed with a throaty chuckle, moving close to him. "You were most satisfactory on both counts." She kissed him briefly, her tongue flickering against his maddeningly before she drew back. "Just don't think that having earned my approval means that you can grow lazy and complacent."

"There's little chance of that," he assured her. It had been drilled into him from his earliest years that his very life depended upon pretending to be a typical drow male: merciless, cruel and utterly subservient to the female hierarchy that ruled drow society, and despite the fact that the deception frequently turned his stomach, he had been more than successful. Last night in the arena, a place where drow were regularly expected to display their prowess in combat, he had utilized his mastery of magic and his skill with a blade to defeat a series of increasingly challenging opponents, culminating in a battle with a summoned demon that had stretched his skills to their limit. He had emerged victorious, however, and his performance had so enflamed Phaere that their lovemaking that night had been only slightly less frenzied and savage than the fights of the day.

He was grateful that his opponents had been only captured beasts and the demon. Fights pitting drow against drow were not uncommon in the arena, but they were required to be to the death. He had avoided most such matches by displaying scorn for the idea, proclaiming that they only served to deprive Ust Natha of warriors needed for the defense of the city. There had been a handful of challenge matches that he had been unable to refuse, but after he had emerged the victor in each one, future challenges had not materialized. He only hoped that none of those he had killed had shared his secret.

Worship of the goddess Eilistraee was punishable by tortuous death in any of the drow cities; her followers, therefore, guarded their affiliation closely. Solaufein had heard of the Handmaidens of Lolth sending out spies posing as followers of the Dark Maiden, hoping to trick true believers into revealing themselves. His mother, a priestess of Eilistraee and the one who had taught him his faith, had remained successfully hidden her whole life, their secret kept safe between them, and her death ten years earlier had left him truly alone for the first time in his life, trapped in a society that was the antithesis of everything he believed, with no one to whom he could show his true self.

Until Phaere.

Initially, her attraction to him had been nothing more than the typical response of a drow female to a powerful male: the desire to possess him and harness his power to her own advantage. She was far from the first female to be so drawn to him, but as the eldest daughter of House Despana, she was by far the highest ranking, and within a month, she had established sole claim to him.

He submitted, of course; as a male, he had no choice in the matter and, in all honesty, his 'duties' in her bedchamber were far from onerous. She was beautiful, spirited and intelligent; she was also, he slowly discovered, more complex than he had originally believed. For several weeks, he was simply a sexual toy, to be dismissed when she was sated. Bit by bit, however, she began talking with him after their encounters, and once it became clear to her that he never repeated anything she said outside of her chambers, their talks became longer and more intimate, sometimes extending long into the night, occasionally replacing the sex itself.

He learned that her desire to succeed her mother as Matron of House Despana stemmed less from a desire for power than a need for self-preservation. He was marginally acquainted with the machinations that occurred among the females of his own household, but Phaere's tales of plots, alliances and betrayals, all overseen by Ardulace's coldly appraising eye, disgusted and appalled him. Phaere herself had survived three attempts at assassination by her younger sisters. She was, he realized, as isolated as he was, hungry for someone to trust, though it was a need that she did not recognize in herself.

Then came the night when he had arrived at her chambers to find her curled up shivering on her bed, her back, buttocks and thighs a shredded, bloody mess. She had failed Ardulace in some task, and the Matron had personally wielded the whip that had flogged her half to death. He had cleaned her wounds, coated them with healing salves, and then held her as she cried tears of pain and fear. That night had profoundly changed their relationship. To the rest of Ust Natha, Phaere continued to be the ruthlessly ambitious heir to House Despana; even when they were alone, she still frequently assumed her long-accustomed role of imperious dominance, but increasingly she permitted him to see her vulnerability, turning to him for comfort and advice.

For his own part, he adjusted his behavior according to her moods: submissive when she required it of him, gentle and supportive when she needed it from him. Bit by bit, the gentle moments came to constitute the majority of their interactions as he dared to show her more and more of the kind and tender side of his nature that he had kept hidden for so long.

Despite the increasing intimacy of their bond, however, he had not dared to reveal his deepest secret to her. Until now.

Time was running out for them; he could sense it. Phaere had told him that Ardulace was growing increasingly displeased with the amount of time she spent in his company; it was not unusual for a drow female to have a preferred male, but evidently the Matron had begun to suspect that there was more to their relationship than mere sexual gratification.

He had found the narrow crevasse several weeks earlier after an earthquake, well away from the path to the surface that was zealously guarded by Adalon, the great silver dragon. He had told no one of its existence, but neither had he made use of it himself; although he checked regularly to ensure that the crevasse had not collapsed, had seen the glow of moonlight gently illuminating the world of the surface, he had not been able to bring himself to venture out, to gaze directly upon the silvered face of the Dark Maiden. He knew that such a step might well take him to the point of no return, leaving him unwilling to go back to the vast, unlit caverns of the Underdark. As cruel as drow society was, it was the only thing that he had ever known, and he was aware of the hostility that most of the surface world directed toward his race. He had heard tantalizing rumors of a settlement of Eilistraee worshippers somewhere within the Underdark, but he had no idea where to even begin looking for it. Besides, the idea of leaving Phaere had become increasingly intolerable.

Tonight, his calculations told him that the moon would be full, and he had made his decision: he would go to the surface with Phaere. Together, they would look upon the moon and he would tell her of Eilistraee, ask her to abandon Ust Natha and her House, to come away with him to whatever fate they could carve out for themselves. If she agreed, they could return briefly to Ust Natha, gather what supplies they would need and be gone before anyone could divine their intentions. If she refused, spurned him, he would leave immediately, make his way as best he could on his own. He did not dare contemplate what would occur if she reacted violently, tried to detain him by force; he knew that he could never draw his weapon or use his magic to harm her.

Staring up at the crevasse now, he felt the first stirring of apprehension. No hint of moonlight was visible through the narrow fissure, and as they stepped through, each having to turn sideways to fit, the reason became apparent: heavy clouds covered the sky, allowing not even the faintest light to be seen.

He silently cursed his luck as Phaere studied the fissure appraisingly. "Not wide enough to permit the passage of a force of any size," she murmured thoughtfully, eying the forest surrounding them curiously, "and to enlarge it would increase the risk of it being discovered. It is, however," she concluded with visible satisfaction, "ideal for use by a small force of scouts or assassins. You have made a valuable discovery, Solaufein. Perhaps this will change Matron Ardulace's opinion of you."

"Perhaps," he echoed, staring up at the overcast sky as though willpower alone could sweep the clouds away.

Phaere followed his gaze. "It is not so very different from the Underdark," she observed, studying the flat undersides of the low clouds. "Where are the moon and stars that I have read of?"

"Hidden by clouds," he replied, striving to keep his frustration from showing in his voice.

"Clouds," she repeated, staring upward for a moment longer before turning her attention back to their surroundings. "And these are trees?" she asked, running her hand experimentally over the trunk of one, a massive specimen with rough bark, thin, needle-like leaves and an aromatic, though not unpleasant, odor.

"I assume so," he said, enjoying the look of curiosity on her face. "This is my first time on the surface."

"Mine, as well," she admitted, then turned to him, her eyes gleaming in challenge. "Shall we explore a bit before we return? I am curious as to how far this fissure is from Suldanesselar."

He agreed readily; the longer they remained on the surface, the greater the chance that the clouds would clear sufficiently to reveal the moon. _Dark Maiden, show us your face, I beseech you, _he prayed silently as he set off behind Phaere. _Help me to bring her into your service so that we may truly be together._

Most of his attention was focused on their surroundings, alert to any danger that might lurk in this unknown world. A small part of him, however, remained all too aware of Phaere ahead of him, the cascade of pale blonde hair down her back and the alluring sway of her hips as she moved cautiously forward, a sway only partially muted by the well-fitting leather armor that she wore. From time to time, she would pause to examine a new type of tree, and once she stooped to pluck a small lavender flower.

"It smells…quite pleasant," she remarked, holding it out to him. He accepted it, raising it to his nose and inhaling a scent unlike anything he had ever experienced. It was lighter, fresher than the musky perfumes preferred by drow females, with a sweetness that made his heart ache with an ill-defined yearning. Reaching out, he tucked it behind her right ear, where it lay in striking contrast to her golden hair.

"I have read that this is how surface females adorn themselves with such things," he informed her, looking approvingly at his handiwork. "I can understand why now."

"I am no surfacer," she retorted, but she smiled as she spoke, and she did not remove the flower as she turned to continue onward.

Below ground, the temperature remained fairly constant; here on the surface, spring was well advanced, but there remained a slight chill in the night air. He saw Phaere shiver slightly as a breeze penetrated the trees to swirl around them, removed his piwawfi cloak and stepped forward to drape it around her shoulders, but she pushed it away.

"I need no coddling, Solaufein," she scolded him. "I can endure a slight chill for being foolish enough to forget a cloak of my own. Besides, a cloak will hamper my access to my sword." She turned her head to glance at the hilt of the two-handed blade secured to her back by a harness that would release with a simple tug of her hand. It was lighter than a standard two-hand sword, but razor sharp, and she wielded it as a seamless extension of herself.

"As you wish," he agreed, putting the cloak back on again. His own weapon, a longsword, was scabbarded at his left hip, and could be quickly drawn even with the cloak.

Soon, the glow of a fire became visible through the trees, the light stabbing at his eyes even though they were still a long distance away. Standing beside Phaere, he could discern the even fainter glow of other fires to the right and left of the first.

"Watchfires," Phaere murmured. "Surely not even the surfacers are foolish enough to blind themselves to the night by remaining close to such light."

They moved forward together, even more cautiously than before, and they soon spotted the first sentry. The elf rested comfortably, bow in hand, in the crook of a tall tree over fifty yards from the watchfire, his back to the fire, allowing him to utilize his night vision. The vision of the two drow, however, was even more attuned to darkness, and they stopped well outside of the range of his view.

Moving slowly, guided by the watchfires, they marked the position of the other sentries, positioned so that it would be all but impossible for an ordinary intruder to move between them undetected. Beyond the glare of the fires, they could just manage to make out the lights of Suldanesselar, the trees that formed the foundation of the elven city towering above the rest of the ancient forest.

"They are foolish and weak," Phaere said contemptuously. "They have grown complacent. A coordinated attack by our archers would eliminate their sentries soundlessly and give the perfect opportunity for a surprise attack. Or perhaps we should simply send an assassin through the blind fools to kill Ellesime herself. What think you?"

"Either would be a worthy accomplishment," Solaufein replied, though in truth, he bore these surface elves no ill will. They would undoubtedly attempt to kill him upon sight, and he would kill any who tried to harm himself or Phaere, but he could not help wondering what they were like, if they were as weak and deserving of death as the Matrons claimed, and he could not help but envy them their ability to see the moon each night.

"An accomplishment that your discovery has made possible," Phaere proclaimed, gazing at him in a manner that kindled an anticipatory heat in his loins. Then her expression turned mischievous. "Shall we take Matron Ardulace back a head as a trophy?"

The heat of desire vanished as suddenly as a torch immersed in water. "A tempting thought," he lied, "but I think it best not to alert them that we have found a flaw in their defenses until the Matrons have decided the best way to exploit it."

Phaere considered this, visibly reluctant to lose a chance to curry favor with her capricious mother. "You are right," she conceded at last, "and far more patient than I. Let us return, then, and reveal what we have discovered."

Turning, they began to move away from Suldanesselar. Having neither stars nor sun to guide them in the Underdark, drow had evolved an innate sense of direction that allowed the pair to return unerringly the way they had come. From time to time, Solaufein glanced hopefully at the sky, but the clouds remained as immobile as the vaulted ceilings of the Underdark.

As they drew near the fissure, the breeze shifted direction, bringing with it an odd combination of warmth, humidity and a faint, pungent and tantalizingly familiar scent. A glance at Phaere told him that she had noticed it, as well, and the pair turned together into the breeze, seeking the source of the odd scent.

They found it a hundred yards north of the fissure, a pool perhaps twenty yards across and thirty long, steam rising lazily from its surface into the night air. The scent was sulfur, he realized; strong enough beside the pool to be identifiable, though far from intolerable.

"A hot spring," Phaere said, crouching and dipping a cautious hand into the water, "but not too hot," she added with satisfaction, standing and removing her sword, leaning it carefully against a tree before starting to unbuckle the straps of her armor.

Solaufein regarded her with surprise. "I thought you were eager to get back and report our findings?"

"A short delay will make little difference, and a hot soak will feel pleasant," Phaere responded, eyeing him challengingly, "or do you fear being caught by the surfacers while we are in the pool? If so, you may stand guard if you wish, but I intend to have a swim." With that, she finished doffing her armor, placing it in a neat pile well away from the water's edge before stripping out of her tunic and breeches and laying them on top of the armor.

"It does seem unlikely that the surfacers will venture so far from their posts at night," he remarked as he watched her disrobe, the heat of desire returning at the sight of her lithe, perfectly proportioned body. "I would recommend as little noise as possible, though." In truth, he welcomed the delay as an additional opportunity for a break in the clouds to appear.

Phaere slipped into the water with barely a ripple, sighing contentedly as she settled in until only her head and shoulders were above the water. "Do you plan on joining me?" she asked with a wicked smile that made it plain that she had seen the desire on his face.

"That is an offer that no sane man would refuse," he answered with a smile of his own. As he began removing armor and clothing, Phaere swam lazily about, sometimes barely visible beneath the steam, other times offering tantalizing glimpses of her breasts glistening just above the surface of the water, her hair fanning out around her head in a golden halo.

At last, he stood naked, the cool night air that chilled the rest of his bare skin having absolutely no effect on his arousal, a fact that did not go unnoticed by Phaere.

"I thought that cold was supposed to have the opposite effect," she teased him.

"It's not really that cold," he replied as he stepped into the water. "Besides, it would require the chill of Cania to reverse the effect that you have on me." He moved deeper, closing his eyes with pleasure as the warmth of the water enveloped him. The pool was deeper than he had first thought, he realized as he reached a point where he was required to tread water. He opened his eyes to find Phaere an arm's length away, but when he reached for her, she backstroked away from him with a come-and-get-me smile.

He hesitated, then let himself sink below the surface of the water until he was completely immersed, forced himself deeper until he felt his foot touch bottom. About eight feet deep, then. He surfaced, looking about expectantly for Phaere, but she was nowhere to be seen; only the lavender flower was visible, floating on the water's surface. He swam to it, but as he reached out to take it, he felt hands grasping his ankles, pulling him under. He twisted, eel-quick, grabbing her as she tried to swim away, and they wrestled underwater for several seconds before they surfaced, both gasping for air. After a moment, he tried to kiss her, but she slipped away from him with an impish grin and dove beneath the surface again. The game continued in this vein for several minutes, and Solaufein participated willingly. Play was something unheard of in drow society; even the games of the children most often involved the infliction of pain or cruelty, and the delight in her eyes each time she eluded his grasp, daring him to pursue her, elevated her beauty to a level that took his breath away.

The game ended at last, with them floating, exhausted, in each other's arms in the center of the pool. He moved his hands idly over her body as his breath returned to him, feeling his desire, which had ebbed during the distraction of Phaere's game, reviving with greater urgency. Dropping one hand to the firm curve of her buttocks, he drew her against him while his other hand slid into her hair to cup the back of her head as he kissed her, his tongue sliding between her lips to savor her taste. She returned the kiss hungrily, her tongue twining with his as her arms locked around his neck and her legs wrapped about his waist, grinding her hips against his erection.

He was unable to suppress a groan; they were still far enough out that he was required to tread water to keep them both afloat, and the motion of his legs created a friction that was maddening. Breaking the kiss, he moved his hand from her buttocks to the curve of her waist, using his other arm to propel them toward the shore while she continued to tease him with lingering kisses on his neck and face, one hand sliding down to trace the length of his hardness and gently cup his testicles.

"By the gods, woman!" he managed to gasp. "You're going to drown us!"

"I have great faith in your stamina," she told him slyly as his feet finally found solid purchase.

"It wasn't my stamina being challenged; it was my concentration," he growled, sweeping her into his arms and carrying her to the shore, where he released her only long enough to spread his piwawfi cloak upon the grass before drawing her to the ground, kissing her with renewed fervor, feeling her respond with equal passion.

Phaere was frequently aggressive during their lovemaking, insisting upon dominance; on occasion, however, as now, she allowed him to take the lead, and he wasted no time in taking advantage of the opportunity. Trailing gentle kisses up the line of her jaw, he reached her ear, hearing her gasp as his lips teased the sensitive tip while his fingers caressed the opposite ear.

Tracing his way back down her cheek, he claimed her lips again in a slow, deep kiss, his hands moving over her body in unhurried caresses, heedless of the impatient writhing of her body against his.

When the kiss ended, she glared up at him. "Solaufein, if you don't –"

"Do you trust me?" he asked her.

She stared at him in confusion. "What?"

"Do you trust me?" he repeated, his eyes holding hers intently.

Her eyes searched his face. "You know that I do," she said softly. The question had been neither asked nor answered lightly. Trust in drow society was a commodity even rarer than kindness.

"Then let me show you a new type of pleasure," he urged her gently. "Please?"

She hesitated, then nodded her assent, and he began to make love to her in the way he had dreamed of since the first time they had lain together. His lips danced lightly over the sensitive flesh of her throat, feeling shivers of pleasure run through her as the tip of his tongue traced the line of her collarbone to the hollow at the base of her throat, shivers that intensified when he began alternating kisses with gentle nips.

Resting his weight on one elbow, he allowed the fingertips of his other hand to follow the line of her jaw, brushing feather-light down her neck and the center of her chest, then altering his course to begin a lazy spiral around one ebon-skinned breast, watching the dark nipple at its center grow hard as the spiral moved higher up the slope of the breast. When his thumb brushed the nipple, she gasped, arching instinctively, thrusting the soft mound into his waiting hand. He obligingly began to knead it gently, pausing occasionally to roll the nipple between thumb and forefinger. She moaned with pleasure, her hips beginning to rock in a silent appeal.

He glanced up at her; her eyes were closed, lips slightly parted as she savored the new sensations, so different from the urgent lust that marked most drow couplings. Lowering his head to her other breast, he took it into his mouth, first suckling softly as his tongue circled the nipple, then nibbling delicately at the tautly pebbled flesh.

"Solaufein!" she gasped, both hands tangling themselves in his hair to hold his head firmly in place.

He raised his head, his eyes mischievous. "Does this please you, then?" he asked teasingly.

"You know it does," she growled, pressing his head firmly down once more. He lowered it willingly, reclaiming the breast he had abandoned, lavishing it with attention from tongue, teeth and lips, then shifting to provide the same treatment to the other breast.

She made a mewling sound of protest when his hand left her breast, but her breath quickened in anticipation as his fingers began tracing light patterns on the flat plane of her belly, the muscles of her abdomen quivering as his touch moved slowly but inexorably lower, one finger circling her navel, then moving lower…lower…

She muffled a cry as he slid a single finger between her legs, easily finding the sensitive bud of flesh and circling it, stroking it slowly. The rocking of her hips became harder, more urgent, and her hands left his hair to move to his back, caressing him hungrily, nails digging lightly into his flesh.

He could feel his own need intensifying as the motion of her body pressed her against him, but he ignored it. He knew her body intimately, but he had never had the chance to explore it in this manner, and he was determined to savor the occasion.

She was already wet, and when he slid two fingers into her warmth, her hips thrust instinctively against him. Moving his lips up to nuzzle her throat and ears, he began moving his fingers in and out of her slowly while his thumb continued to circle and stroke her most sensitive spot. Her hips moved with him, her breath becoming more ragged until she stiffened suddenly, her eyes going wide. He moved quickly to cover his mouth with his own, his kiss muffling her cries as the waves of her orgasm rolled through her. He continued to stimulate the now highly sensitized bud for several more seconds, each flick of his thumb sending a fresh surge of pleasure through her body, making her writhe beneath him until she suddenly went limp.

He raised up on one elbow again, regarding her sweat-sheened body with satisfaction as he meticulously licked her sweet juices from his fingers. "An interesting change of pace?" he asked as her eyes opened to return his gaze.

"Interesting, indeed," she agreed with a sensuous smile. "And now –" Reaching down, she encircled him with her hand, but although her touch was purest bliss, he slipped away from her as easily as she had eluded him in the water earlier.

"I'm not done yet," he told her with a smile of promise. Her eyes narrowed at having her intention thwarted, then widened again as he began to kiss his way down her body, his tongue savoring the salt of her sweat while his hands moved with gentle caresses in advance of his lips. He paused at her navel, dipping his tongue briefly into its concavity before moving outward to nuzzle her flank and the curve of her hip, his fingers sliding lightly over her inner thighs.

She parted her legs willingly at his urging, and he moved between them, raising his head to gaze at her; propping herself up on her elbows, she watched him intently, her eyes filled with a mixture of wonder and desire. Smiling, he lowered his head, his tongue flickering out to tease the swollen bud before he moved forward to take it into his mouth, suckling it, nibbling on it relentlessly, then sweeping his tongue over it in broad strokes.

"Gods!" Phaere cried out, her head lolling back on her shoulders and her hips trying to break free from the firm grip of his hands.

"Quietly," he warned her with a sly smile. "It wouldn't do for the surfacers to find us in such a position."

"The Nine Hells take the surfacers!" Phaere snapped, but her tone was lower. Returning to a prone position, she again moved her hands to his head, pressing him downward. He needed no encouragement, delving his tongue deep within her, eager to taste more of her nectar, then returning again to the center of her pleasure. He moved his hands upward to begin teasing her breasts again, freeing her hips to grind against his face, her hoarse whispers urging him on. As aroused as she had been from his earlier attentions, it was not long before he felt her body shudder in release once again. Looking upward, he saw that she had jammed a fist against her mouth to silence herself, eyes clenched tightly shut.

As the throes of her second orgasm passed, he moved forward until he was poised to enter her, his need almost painful by this time.

"Now?" he asked her gently.

"Yes!" The soft, yearning plea in her voice was something that he had never heard before, something that he knew that _no_ drow had ever heard from her before, and it sent his desire soaring to new heights.

He entered her slowly, closing his eyes at the exquisite sensation of being enveloped in her warmth. When he was fully within her, he felt her muscles tighten around him expertly; he opened his eyes to find her regarding him with a wicked grin. She was trying to make him lose control. Marshalling every ounce of his willpower, he returned her smile as he withdrew from her, then thrust forward again as slowly as before…again…and again, each time enduring the sweet agony of the pressure she exerted on him. At last, a wordless murmur escaped her as she surrendered the contest and began moving with him in a slow and silken rhythm, their hands moving over each other in the gentlest of caresses.

He would have willingly continued in this fashion for the remainder of the night, but his body dictated otherwise; within minutes, he felt his climax building, knew there would be no stopping it.

Phaere sensed it as well. "Harder!" she demanded, twining her legs about his waist to pull him even deeper into herself.

"Not yet," he whispered, raising himself up enough to slide a hand downward between them and begin stroking her in an erotic counterpoint to the rhythm of his thrusts.

She gasped, the movement of her hips becoming erratic. "Solaufein…oh, gods …yes…_yes_!" She surged against him as she cried out, all need for silence forgotten.

Solaufein was beyond caring, as well. The presence of the entire population of Suldanesselar would not have been sufficient to stop what was happening to him as he finally gave in to the demands of his desire, increasing the rate and force of his rhythm until, with a final thrust, he collapsed against her, burying his face against her neck and calling out her name over and over as his body shuddered with the power of his release, feeling his seed spilling deep within her.

They remained so entwined for several minutes, hair of silver and gold flowing together as they lay spent in each other's arms. At last, he summoned the energy to roll to his back, pulling her against him with one arm.

"You never cease to surprise me," she murmured as he drew the cloak around them both.

"And please you, I hope?" he queried, quirking an eyebrow at her.

"Oh, yes," she purred, laying her head upon his shoulder and draping an arm over his chest. "You most definitely pleased me!"

After a long moment, however, she raised up, studying him intently, her expression suddenly unreadable. "How did you do it?" she wanted to know. "No male has ever been able to dominate me so completely…yet...it did not feel like domination. It felt –" She shook her head in bafflement. "What we did, I have done countless times before, and far more exotic pleasures, as well, but this was different. Your touch was –" she struggled to find the words to describe the experience. "It was like nothing that I have ever felt before from any male, even from you before this night."

He reached out a hand to smooth her hair away from her face; almost involuntarily, her eyes closed and she leaned into his touch. "It was different this night because I touched you not out of lust or duty, but to bring you pleasure for its own sake, because bringing you pleasure has become the greatest pleasure in my life. My touch was different because, for the first time, I allowed myself to touch you with love." He hesitated, half afraid to take the final, irrevocable step. "I love you, Phaere."

She stiffened in his arms, staring at him in disbelief. "All love is foolish," she whispered, quoting a familiar drow proverb.

"Then I am a fool," he told her, smiling gently, despite the knot of apprehension in his gut, "and willingly so."

She stared at him for a moment longer, then buried her face in his chest, her body trembling with an emotion far removed from passion. "And I as well," she replied in a muffled voice, "for I love you, too."

For a long moment, he could not speak, could not move, could not breathe as the knot in his gut loosened and his heart took flight at the words that he had scarcely permitted himself to hope to hear. At last he wrapped his arms around her, laying his cheek against her still damp hair. "You have just made me happier than I ever thought possible, my love," he murmured tenderly.

"But it is still foolish," she insisted, pulling away from him, fear in her eyes. "We cannot hope to keep such a thing hidden; Ardulace is already suspicious of our association. Once she realizes that I have become weak enough to love a male…to love anyone…" Her tremors intensified and Solaufein drew her back to him. She resisted briefly, then clung to him desperately.

Her fears were far from unfounded or exaggerated. Loyalty to anything save Lolth and the matriarchy was considered a betrayal, and love was viewed not only as a betrayal, but one of the most despised weaknesses. The object of a person's love immediately became a target for that person's enemies…and no drow was completely without enemies, particularly those belonging to the major Houses. Once Ardulace became aware of their love (and he was as certain as Phaere that discovery was inevitable), the best that Phaere could hope for was another lashing even more savage than the one before. At worst –

"We must kill her!" Phaere announced, sitting up with a wild hope in her eyes. "I am still the heir to Despana, and once I am Matron, I need answer to no one!"

"That much is true," Solaufein admitted slowly, "but you would be under even greater scrutiny than you are now, not only from those in your House seeking to depose you, but from other Houses looking to gain status at Despana's expense. I would become a point of weakness…and a target."

"I will kill any who seek to harm you!" she declared fiercely, all fear forgotten.

"And I would do as much for you," he replied, "but can you fight the whole of Ust Natha? For I can assure you, my love, that this is what it will come to, sooner or later. What we feel for each other is not a weakness, but a strength, and one that poses a threat to the very fabric of our society; it will not be tolerated."

She glared at him rebelliously, then sagged in defeat as the truth of his words became apparent to her. "What are we to do, then?" she growled, striking the ground with a fist in frustration.

Solaufein glanced at the sky, but the moon remained hidden, and the featureless underside of the clouds offered no inspiration. "We could leave," he suggested softly.

She stared at him uncomprehendingly. "Leave…Ust Natha?" she asked slowly. "And go where? Any other city would be no different."

"We would go where we pleased," he said in his most persuasive voice. "We could make a life for ourselves in the Underdark, or perhaps even on the surface. With my spells and our blades, we would be more than able to take care of ourselves, and in time, we might meet others."

Her brow creased in puzzlement. "What others?"

Now was the time to tell her everything, but looking into her eyes, something held him back. "Others who have dared to feel what is forbidden," he said instead. "Others who have refused to submit to the tyranny of the Matrons and the Handmaidens of Lolth.

Her eyes grew apprehensive. "To betray the Matrons is one thing, but to defy Lolth? She is capable of casting her web wide."

"Perhaps," he conceded, "but she still relies primarily upon her mortal agents to do her bidding. If we were to simply vanish, I doubt that we would incur sufficient wrath for her to take a personal interest in us. Besides," he added as offhandedly as possible, "there are other deities that will accept the worship of drow: Shar, Eilistraee… If we were to offer our allegiance to one of these, they could provide us some measure of protection."

She sat thoughtfully for a long moment. He waited, encouraged that she had not rejected the notion outright. At last, she said, "I have no loyalty to Lolth, have never held any true desire to rule Despana, save for the fact that the only other option for me was death. I never thought to have what has been given to me this night. I care not what god we worship so long as we are together."

Again, the chance to tell her, and again, the moonless sky overhead held him silent. _There will be plenty of time once we are away from here_, he told himself as he reached for her, saying. "Right now, I am only interested in worshipping the goddess who sits before me."

"You have a glib tongue, male," Phaere responded, but she was smiling as she spoke, and responded readily to his kisses and caresses. They made love a second time, as slowly and tenderly as the first, and fell asleep in each other's arms, the piwawfi cloak wrapped snugly around them.

The first faint light of dawn had begun to tinge the eastern sky when they donned their clothing and armor and returned to the fissure.

They paused outside. "When should we leave?" she asked him. "And how?"

"As quickly and quietly as possible," he replied. "Return to your quarters and gather what you would take with you. Come to my quarters, and we will leave from there, take one of the smaller tunnels out of the city. If we tell the guards that we are going on an extended scouting mission, by the time the deception is discovered, we will be well away."

Phaere nodded approvingly. "A sound plan," she agreed. "We should return separately; I will go first. Wait five minutes, then follow." Leaning forward, she gave him a lingering kiss. "I will see you soon," she promised as she slipped through the fissure.

Solaufein waited the agreed length of time, then stepped through the fissure and made his way to his own quarters, his heart filled with hope and anticipation. Wanting to travel lightly, he packed only a few things in a travel sack: his spellbooks, extra clothing and a blanket, sharpening stone, travel rations, two waterskins and a pouch heavy with gold. Thusly prepared, he settled in a chair to wait with barely contained patience for Phaere.

But she never came…and when she finally emerged from the Temple of Lolth weeks later, utterly changed, he was forced to accept the bitter realization that she never would.


End file.
